The Best Part of Chattering
by Melody of Words
Summary: ... is when they shut each other up. --Fluff to the EXTREME; Long oneshot; Channy, SonnyxChad, whatever you want to call them; Read and Review?--


**Author's Note: :-o Whoa. I've never written a oneshot like this. I've been working on this one for a long time, though, so please tell me what you thought. WARNING: Looong like crazy, and extremely adorable. ^^ At least to me, anyway. ;)**

**Disclaimer: _Please_. I don't even own a teal Snuggie.**

* * *

She hadn't been quiet the entire evening. She bubbled and spouted and giggled, and really, it was annoying. Sure, her name was Sonny, and sure, everyone was used to it by now, but they were still sick of it. So, when Sonny decided to give them a brief respite from her incessant chatter by going to the bathroom, everyone let out a collective sigh.

"Can someone shut her up?" Tawni groaned. She didn't notice the calculating look on Chad Dylan Pooper's- excuse me, _Cooper's_- oh so handsome face. In fact, she didn't even care if Mackenzie Falls- the stupid snobs- heard her; the girl needed to vent! Quickly, Tawni clicked open her Juicy Couture purse and deftly pulled out her pink, rhinestone-studded compact mirror with a sigh of relief. Her nails clicked audibly as she snapped open the mirror, and an adoring smile found its way onto her immaculate face. "Oh, you look be-_you_-tiful! Yes, you do! Oh! I missed you so, so much! I love your hair, and your eyes, and your smile, and your fashion, and your voice! I'm so glad you're not annoying like Sonny… you're such a great listener!" Tawni cooed, making faces which made her attractiveness rather questionable. She remained completely oblivious to the eyes glued to her face.

"Can someone shut _her _up?" Portlyn snickered.

"Ugh, no wonder she's a blond!" Penelope laughed. Chad Dylan Poo- ugh, Cooper- merely smirked, seemingly pretending not to be blond.

"Hey, you stop talking about our Tawni! Your Mackenzie Falls-ian snootiness is not needed here," Grady defended.

"And your so-called comedy is definitely not needed here," Chad cut in smoothly, tilting his head to show off his perfectly windswept hair. And he didn't do that just because Sonny Monroe walked back in, alright? He definitely was smiling a fake smile while the rest of his cast laughed at his perfect- _as always_!- insult, not a real smile because Sonny Monroe walked back in, okay? Sure, Sonny Monroe walked back in, and he could feel her sunny, sweet-as-chocolate (not that he noticed) eyes sweep over him, but he wasn't smiling at her. He was smiling to the left of her.

* * *

She'd been nervous the entire evening. What if So Random lost to Mackenzie Falls again? What if it was all because of her? What if she'd come up from Wisconsin for nothing? She'd have to go back, and everyone would hate her, and she'd never see Tawni again, or Nico, or Grady, or Zora, or Cha-

She gasped. To say, or even think the teen heartthrob's name was treason. In fact, Sonny was pretty sure that referring to him as 'the teen heartthrob' was probably against the So Random code as well, if not against the law of self-respecting comedians everywhere.

She wasn't really certain; she was kinda new to Chuckle City. But Sonny Monroe was Sonny Monroe- sunny, friendly, and confident. So before she set out to the Tween Weekly End of the Year Award Ceremony, she gave herself a little pep talk in the mirror.

"OK," she told her reflection breathlessly. "You can do this. This is your dream. This is why you're here. You need this. So Random needs this. Wisconsin needs this. The whole United States of America needs this!" She paused. "Well, maybe not the United States…" she added as an afterthought, "but the United States of Comedy does! Ha! A new sketch!" she giggled almost hysterically at her own corniness. "Wait til Tawni hears- oh, no, what if I'm not on the show? What if I fai- No. Think positive. You're Sonny. You can do this. This is your dream…"

After realizing that she was acting a lot like her blond female co-star, Sonny Monroe plastered a wide smile on her face and headed off with her cast to the Award Ceremony, inadvertently freaking everyone out by the half-crazed look on her face. And since she felt so sick to her stomach that she didn't feel like talking, Sonny made sure she acted normal and chattered. _Act normal_, she told herself while trying to mimic Tawni's elegance in holding a fork. _It's what you do. Screw this up, and you'll be kicked off the show_. Her eyes widened. _Kicked off the show… _she suddenly had the urge to hide (or talk to her reflection) in the bathroom. _No_, she told herself frantically. _Be normal! Talk!_ Her mouth ran faster and faster and faster, and her mouth was hurting, and her throat was dry-

_Well_, she thought as she excused herself from the table, _it wouldn't hurt to make sure my lipgloss is still on_. She couldn't help but grin giddily with relief as she turned away from the table. Her heels clacked on the tiled floor of the bathroom as she did a quick check to make sure no one else occupied the room. After her thorough survey of every stall, corner, ceiling, shadow, and potted plant, she planted her hands firmly on the marble surface of the wet sink counter, facing her reflection with a slightly panicked look of satisfaction. And déjà vu. And disgust at herself for acting like Tawni, but that was beside the point. She smoothed her dark brown hair down even though it was just fine and exhaled.

"I can do this," she told herself. "I can. I just gotta," she removed her hands from the counter, "be myself and," she strutted back and forth in front of the mirror, "walk the talk!" she giggled nervously. "I can make them laugh," she said with another forced chuckle. "This is me!"

With another plastered smile and a forced bounce in her step, Sonny Monroe and her audible heels clacked their way back to the table holding the stars of the shows from Condor Studios. OK, yeah, it was just the dinner before the award, but she was still nervous. And that was why she felt butterflies in her stomach, not because her eyes moved automatically to Chad and his perfectly windswept hair, alright? And it's not like she felt like his hair was begging her to run her fingers through it, okay? Her stomach did not jump when he smiled at her-

Oh, who was she kidding? He was probably smiling to the left of her. That wasn't why her stomach dropped, either. She was nervous, that's all.

* * *

She wasn't shutting up! First she talked about her dress, then her hair, then her shoes, then the food- it was enough to drive a person berserk!

"Hey, you with the chatterbox," Penelope called. Sonny leveled an annoyed gaze at the sneering brunette who sat directly in front of her, pausing her incessant chatter for a moment to shove chicken parmesan into her mouth.

"Hmm?" she managed, oblivious to the sighs of relief echoing around the table.

"You should eat more often," Tawni encouraged hastily. Penelope smirked.

"Are you nervous we'll win again?" she asked.

"What?" Sonny asked in alarm, spewing chicken bits over her rival. "What are you talking about?" her voice grew higher. "Psh-" the chicken bits spouted violently- "I'm not nervous! I'm never nervous!"

Penelope plucked with distaste at the bits scattered in her once immaculate hair and her glittering, sequined, tight red dress.

"How could you, you monster!" she roared. Tawni flinched, but Sonny delved into more chatter, whisking up a napkin and hurrying forward to dab the stains out.

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry!" Sonny cried. "I had no idea- the chicken was just so good and soft, I forgot it was even in my mouth! I don't even know how these got here! Are you sure these are the same pieces in my mouth, 'cause these feel harder," she rambled, picking up a piece and squeezing it between her index finger and thumb. She watched in frozen horror as the meat between her fingers dripped juice onto Penelope's dress. "I'd forgotten how juicy these are," Sonny offered weakly.

"Stop! This is dry clean only- you're making it worse!" With an angered cry, the Hispanic brunette sped frantically away to the bathroom.

"Oh, my gosh, that was her favorite Chanel!" Portlyn exclaimed excitedly, grabbing her cell phone and texting, her fingers never stopping as she joined her co-star.

For the first time that evening, Sonny Monroe shut up.

And for some reason, no one liked it at all.

* * *

"Look, Sonny, it was just a Chanel-" Tawni tried.

"Her _favorite _Chanel! How am I ever going to repay her? I mean, what was I thinking? I could've gone without dinner- who needs food anyway?"

"Well, apparently not Portlyn," Tawni observed, her eyes following the skimpily dressed, scrawny teen as she stumbled slightly in ridiculously high heels.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! If we can't insult 'your' Tawni, you can't insult our Portlyn!" Chad exclaimed defensively.

"Oh, so you're going to listen to us, now?" Nico asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, you're going to listen to us, now?" Grady echoed, assuming what he clearly thought was a threatening pose. Chad scoffed and casually leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly smoothing down his flawless blond hair.

"_Please_. I was just making a point. A _serious _point. Because I'm a _serious _actor," he replied haughtily, nodding once in what he supposed was a cool manuever.

"Oh, you-!" Grady began angrily, attempting to wrestle his way out of Nico's vice like grip.

"It's for your own good, man! You don't want to get in any trouble at this dinner. Calm down!" Nico ordered in his friend's ear. Chad smirked.

"Can you ALL shut up?" Tawni exclaimed. "Sonny, here, is feeling bad, and I'm… um, I think I'm getting sick again. What did you call it, Nico? That thing when your heart beats all fast and your blood's racing through your veins and-"

"Caring, Tawni," Nico interrupted exasperatedly. She shuddered.

"Right, that. Sonny needs to hurry up and feel better- so that _I_ can feel better, _okay_?" she demanded, her cheeks flushed, her eyes daring anyone to challenge her. When no one did, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh of satisfaction. "So would you all shut up?"

Chad scrutinized Sonny carefully. "She looks fine to me," he said.

"Anyone who thinks food is unimportant clearly does not have a cold-cut catapult and is not okay," Zora informed matter-of-factly. Chad's eyes widened.

"A-a cold-cut catapult?" he asked nervously, smoothing down his perfectly fitting khaki colored sports jacket as if wiping off slices of meat.

"Mm-hmm," Zora answered, a slight sly grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "A cold cut catapult. I adapted it so I can fold it and take it anywhere I go, by the way. It's portable," she added, eyes lighting up mischievously at the teen hearthrob's- _GASP_! How dare she? Her eyes lit up at… at _Chip Drama Pants's_ obvious discomfort. Chad cleared his throat nervously, cowering invisibly under the 9-or-something year old's penetrating, evil gaze. Said little demon's eyes flashed dangerously.

"I'm 13!" she cried angrily, standing up so suddenly she knocked her chair over backwards. With a careless glance to the damage and the shocked gazes directed at her, she slammed her hands onto the table. Chad shivered, unable to figure out how she'd known what he was thinking, or tear his eyes away from the plate between Zora's hands that he had just witnessed bouncing in the air.

To be perfectly honest, if this was any other 13 year old girl, it would probably be more odd than frightening. If it had been any other 13 year old girl who was unusually small for her age, wore crazy pigtails and had a blue strip of clip-on hair, it would be awkward, but still not frightening. If this was any other 13 year old girl with the same characteristics who'd decided to 'dress up' for the event with several strands of neon blue faux pearls wrapped tightly around her pale throat along with a black, spaghetti-strap, sequin-studded dress worn over paint-splattered jeans, and a long teal Snuggie thrown over the entire outfit and trailing on the ground, it would be hilarious.

But since it was Zora…

… it was downright terrifying.

Her eyes boiled with anger, and Nico predicted with a wide grin that there would be blood. And more blood, because Zora would get mad that the red would ruin her painstakingly color-coordinated outfit.

"How did you… how did you know what I was thinking?" Chad ventured, attempting valiantly not to let his voice shake.

Zora relaxed her stance.

"I have my ways," she said casually, blowing on a clearly bitten nail. Chad's eyes widened even more in horror at the sight.

"Zora, it's alright. Stop scaring Chad," Sonny soothed sensibly. She smiled inwardly at her control, praising herself. After so much time had passed since her last babysitting job (_5 months_!), she still hadn't lost the touch. This was almost as satisfying as the time when she had those quadruple-

"I'm not your pet," Zora scowled. So much for a good job. Sonny didn't let it faze her.

For the record, Sonny Monroe was never fazed. Not even when a murderous looking Penelope stalked back to the table, followed by a snickering Portlyn. Nope. (She gulped) She wasn't nervous.

And for the record, Chad Dylan Cooper- teen hearthrob and star of Mackenzie Falls Chad Dylan Cooper- wasn't upset when he saw how mad Penelope was at Sonny. He wasn't concerned for her wellbeing or afraid that she might be hurt. He definitely wasn't making plans (excuses) to walk Sonny Monroe home to her apartment tonight so that she wouldn't get ambushed by the fiery Latina.

For one brief, sweet- no, _not sweet! Horrifying!- _moment, sunny brown eyes met killer, overly photographed blue eyes. And then… and then they didn't feel anything, and they continued eating dinner, not thinking about the nonexistent spark they felt.

After that… _meaningless _moment, Sonny Monroe resolved that she needed to up her normalcy act. Tawni noted with a smirk (and confusion) that Chad Dylan Cooper's head was constantly tipped at an awkward angle. It probably had nothing to do with showing off his windswept hair, though.

Chicken parmesan landed everywhere as Sonny decided she wasn't chatting enough. Penelope's eyes glittered dangerously, and Chad's throat dried. But he was concerned for _his _safety, okay? Penelope was scary. No, really.

Finally, Tawni slinked away from the table, holding her purse as a shield over her hair. Not to be outdone, the Mackenzie Falls girls wasted no time following her, making no attempt to hide their shrieks. Naturally, Nico followed them- "My ladies!"- and Grady rushed to get leftovers… and, just to be clear, he didn't want food. Too much chicken flying around.

Sonny and Chad were left, sitting directly across from each other at a table strewn with bits of chicken parmesan. Chad peered at her intently, trying his best to ignore the pain in his neck. Sonny stared at her chicken, willing herself to remember that her food was not the same shade of blue as Chad's eyes. Suddenly, she was all too aware of how very alone she was, and Chad's blue eyes somehow kept materializing in the most undesirable places (the gravy of her mashed potatoes, the parsley spread over her food), so…

"Bathroom," she said in a strangled whisper. Grabbing her clutch, she tripped slightly over her chair leg and trotted painfully out of the dining hall into the mirrored foyer and grand hall to what she was afraid was not the bathroom. It was a broom closet, and Sonny could hear her mother's lecture on how broom closets brought nothing but trouble and scandals for young starlets- "But how do you know, Mom?" "Honey, it's not like I read tabloid magazines or anything. I just know!"- but right now, she needed to have a little meltdown session.

Chad was no idiot; he knew something was up. After 30 seconds, Chad had "figured out" that Penelope was connected to the mafia and had threatened Sonny with a text message that said, word for word: "Come to secret place at midnight or else. xxPennyfromMackFalls- hottest show to appear on the T.V. !" So, naturally, he decided to follow her- so he could have enough experience to land that part in the new Jamie Bones movie- or something like that.

He wandered cluelessly (although he'd like you to think the opposite) into the foyer, attracted by the, um, clues (read mirrors). By a stroke of what Chad would later call fortune, but what he now named the inexplicable attraction of everything in the universe to him (then again, he'd call it that later, too), he heard a sudden sob from a broom closet in the grand hall. Assuming his standard hero position (and wetting his lips for the kiss that the damsel in distress would most undoubtedly force him to share), Chad Dylan Cooper stood in front of the broom closet, as if he were busting an illegal drug dealing operation. With a quick kick, and a "Hi-yah!", Chad Dylan Cooper kicked the door open with a bang, only to wince as his damsel in distress let out a very loud, very piercing, unfortunately familiar shriek.

"Ow! Can't a girl melt down in peace?"

"So-Sonny?" Chad ventured.

"Yeah? Who the heck do you think you are? What gives you the right to kick down the doors that protect the privacy of the common public- oh. Oh, no. Chad." They stared at each other awkwardly, Sonny from a twisted angle as she bent to rub her shin, Chad Dylan Cooper from a twisted angle as he tilted his head so that the light caught his perfectly windswept hair .

"Look," Sonny tried embarrassedly, her cheeks flushing quickly, "it's not what it looks like." Chad noticed the little compact mirror clutched tightly in her hand. His eyebrows raised.

"You talk to your reflection, too?"

Sonny, for the second time that evening, was at a loss for words.

"You talk to your reflection?" she asked after an awkward pause, not entirely surprised. His eyes widened briefly before narrowing to slits.

"You have no right to judge," he sniffed. She snorted, and he shot her a look of horror.

"You're… you're a snorter?" he asked hesitantly. It was her turn to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I do not snort! Tobacco is bad for you!"

He stared at her, and she scuffed her heels on the floor uncomfortably.

"Alright, fine. Yes, I snort. Happy?" She refused to look at him.

"You know," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "tobacco is bad for your health." She gave him a blank look.

"Shut up, Chad."

"You shut up."

"No, you!"

"You!"

"I said it first, so you shut up!"

"Yeah? Well, you haven't shut up the entire evening, so it's about time you shut up!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Shouldn't it be obvious, Miss Chatterbox?"

She paused, glaring at him. "At least I don't talk about myself all the time, Mr. Jerk!"

"Miss Chatterbox was way better."

"You're such a self-centered, conceited, egotistical, big-headed… bigheaded… _jerk_!" At the amused look on his face, she exploded. "And you're the _worst _actor of any generation, now, before, and _ever_!"

"Take it back!" he ordered after a moment of shock.

"I don't think I will," she told him sweetly, sashaying past him with a flip of her hair. Her eyes sparkled triumphantly. Chad stared at her shamelessly for a moment before jogging to catch up with her.

"So what's wrong?" he asked, flipping his hair.

She glanced at him, annoyed. "Nothing, Chad. This is going to be the best night ever because _we_ are going to beat _you_," she informed him.

"Uh," he laughed falsely, "I don't think so."

"Uh," she imitated obnoxiously, "I do."

"Hehe, no. I don't think so."

"Hehe, you don't think, _period_." She pivoted on one heel and planted her hands on her hips, facing him with a defiant stance.

"Excuse me? Your little Chuckle City freak show over there doesn't stand a chance." He tilted his head again (he'll deny trying to show her his windswept hair).

"Freak show? Yeah, at least we don't purposefully try to be pains in the neck," she accused, pointing a finger at him and snickering as he rubbed his neck, which currently felt like electricity was shooting up and down it. He staggered backward exaggeratedly.

"Ah! I've been hit by one of your corny jokes!"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Whatever, Chad. I was actually busy doing something productive."

"Yeah, because talking to yourself sure is productive," he scoffed.

She looked down at her shoes. "You do it, too," she pointed out, her voice unexpectedly soft.

"Well, I'm Chad Dylan Cooper, star of the hit show 'Mackenzie Falls!' You're Sonny. Funny, funny, little Sonny from the middle-of-nowhere to a nobody-show. And you're new, so people are just waiting for you to mess up," he told her triumphantly.

Sonny turned away from him slowly, swallowing noticeably. "I know," she murmured shakily, stepping away. Chad frowned slightly before running in front of her and grabbing her arm. She looked up at him in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Um… I thought you were crying."

Her eyes widened slightly before looking away from him, swiveling madly to avoid his face. "Uh… why would I be-" she coughed, clearing her throat, "-why would I be crying?"

His frown deepened. "You're a terrible liar."

She sniffled slightly. "I guess that makes me a terrible actress," she murmured.

"Hey…" Chad hesitantly patted her shoulder. Suddenly, she lifted her head to look him square in the eye, tears brimming in her chocolate eyes.

"So, you _were _crying," he observed after a moment. She sighed.

"No," she told him forcefully, "my eyes were welling up, but I wasn't about to cry, okay? And I'm fine now," she added, hurriedly wiping her own eyes and attempting to dash back to the dinner.

He caught up to her quickly, especially since she really couldn't handle heels. He held her lightly and awkwardly from the back in an embrace. "What's wrong, Sonny?" he asked quietly.

Several things went through her mind to say at that moment. Things like, "_Nothing's wrong, you pheromone-spouting volcano!_", or "_What's wrong with you? You never care about me_," and even "_Don't whisper in my ear like that, you're giving me goosebumps_."

Instead, she let her words spiral out of control. "I'm afraid that I've ruined our chances of beating Mackenzie Falls, and that I've made SoRandom worse, and that I've never actually been funny, and I'll make everyone hate me, and that I'll be kicked off the show and never be able to see Tawni again, or Nico, or Grady, or Zora, or Marshall, or yo-" she stopped abruptly. "Um… or the fro-yo machine in the cafeteria," she amended in the awkward silence that followed her torrent of words. She waited anxiously for Chad's reply. Feeling a sudden burst of courage and a strong sense that she would most definitely _not _miss the fro-yo machine, he pulled her closesr.

"Well… _I'd_ miss you," he told her gently in her ear.

"…Yeah?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. Who else will compliment me like you?" he added as an afterthought.

"Wha-?! I don't compliment you, Chad Cooper!"

"You forgot the Dylan!" he cried in absolute outrage.

"No, I didn't," she smirked.

They quieted again, staring at their reflection in the mirror.

"Why would you miss me, Chad _Dylan _Cooper?" she asked.

"I'd miss you because you change a lot of things around you. I swear my hair's gotten shinier. What would you miss about me?" he asked her after preventing her foot from stomping on his. She blushed, a thousand more words racing through her head. Naturally, in such a confused state, she could not be counted on to give a short, smooth answer.

"I… I'd miss… I'd miss the way you laugh. Or when you're being a jerk and I just want to smack you in the face for being so incredibly oblivious. I'd miss seeing you do that weird smile you do when everything's quiet and you've just said something sweet, or that annoying smirk you do when all your dimples come out, and I'd miss when your teeth do this weird thing that I didn't know could be possible; they sparkle just like in those corny old cartoons. I'd miss when you say 'Suckas!' and then we totally own you. I'd miss gluing your face to windows and staring at your eyes and going up to Lookout Mountain and pretending not to be affected even though you affect me all the time, even when you're being terrible at seducing people or using cheesy lines. I'd miss your sparkly-"

He silently turned her around and kissed her. It was quick and chaste, and they'd both readily admit that the world didn't shake, the walls didn't crumble, and music didn't play.

But they'd never admit that maybe that nonexistent spark was more existent than they'd let on.

He pulled away after one second and laughed at her dumbfounded face. She opened and closed her mouth at least five times before he put his hand over her mouth.

"Did I finally turn off the chatterbox?" he teased. He looked over at her blushing face and grinned. "You know," he began, moving his hand to take hers and leading her back to the dinner, "_manly men _like _me _can't express their emotions very well." She scowled at him. In a quieter voice, he continued, "But I'll give you this: I'd miss hearing your voice most of all."

They stayed quiet the rest of the evening, to the relief of her co-stars, until he finally walked her home under the pretense of protecting her from Penelope.

"Chad," she said, standing in front of her opened door, "you have windswept hair."

"You noticed?"

"Mm-hmm. It gives me a pain in my neck for some reason."

He sputtered, unable to answer her coherently.

"But that's okay," she continued, "because you've got a sparkly eye," she said, a heated blush making its way across her face.

He smirked. "I've also got a nice laugh, right? And a smile you like that comes after I say something sweet? And a smirk that you call annoying, but you know you like it. And I've got dimples and sparkly teeth, and seduc-"

She kissed him. "Shut up."

"Yeah, okay."

"'Night, Chad."

"'Night, Sonny."

* * *

They hadn't stopped talking the entire day, but it was okay. After all, the best part of chattering for them was when they shut each other up.

* * *

**Author's Note: :) Review?**


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